I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 113: With Your Strength, How Did You Lose?

The Next Day. Elimination Round – Second Round.

A 25-year-old man sat in front of his Go board, gritting his teeth as he stared at the game in front of him.

After a moment, he took a deep breath and lifted his gaze toward his opponent—a mere sixteen-year-old boy sitting across from him.

Then, suddenly, he stood up and walked out of the match venue.

In the hotel lobby, he slumped onto a couch in the waiting area, pulled out a cigarette pack, and slid a single cigarette out. With a flick of his lighter, he lit it.

A haze of smoke swirled around him, his expression dazed as his mind replayed the game over and over again.

Aside from the first drag, he never touched the cigarette again, simply letting it burn down between his fingers.

By the time he finally snapped out of his thoughts, the cigarette had already burned down to the filter. He barely noticed.

With a deep sigh, he crushed the stub into the ashtray and staggered back toward the match room.

Seeing the man’s retreating figure, a tall and thin journalist watching from the hall couldn't help but sigh.

"The atmosphere at the Promotion Tournament is always this heavy and suffocating."

Beside him, a short and stocky cameraman added with a chuckle, "And this is just the preliminaries. Wait until we get to the main tournament or the final rounds—you won't even be able to breathe in there."

Back in the match room, the man silently returned to his seat, staring at the Go board before him.

He reached into his Go bowl.

But even after a long time, his fingers simply hovered over the stones without picking one up.

At last, he let out a defeated sigh, dropped his hand, and lowered his head.

As if summoning all his strength, he forced the words through clenched teeth:

"I... lost."

"Thank you for the game."

Across from him, Yu Shao lowered his head slightly.

"Thank you for the game."

The man’s voice was weak as he nodded and returned the gesture.

Yu Shao stood up, walked to the judges' table, reported his victory, then exited the match room.

Two consecutive wins.

Since Yu Shao had won his first-round match as well, his second-round opponent was also a first-round winner.

However, compared to Qiao Anli from yesterday, Yu Shao could tell that today’s opponent was significantly weaker.

Taking out his phone, he glanced at the time.

Even though phone signals were blocked inside the match venue, checking the time was still possible.

"Almost 2 PM already..."

Today's match ended later than yesterday's.

Yu Shao wasn’t surprised.

Although today's opponent was weaker than Qiao Anli, he had spent more time thinking and held out longer before conceding, which ironically made the match last longer.

In Go, evaluating the board position is difficult. Even players who have studied for years sometimes struggle to accurately judge winning or losing positions.

That’s why, ironically, stronger players tend to resign quicker—once they see that the game is beyond saving, they don’t waste time and simply acknowledge defeat.

"Time for lunch."

Yu Shao rubbed his stomach, feeling a bit hungry, and left the hotel to find something to eat.

Go matches start at 10 AM, and each player gets three hours of main time, plus a one-minute byo-yomi per move in overtime.

A single game could last from 10 AM to 5 or 6 PM if both players played slowly and were of equal strength.

Although players are allowed to eat during matches, most don’t, unless absolutely starving—eating too much can make them drowsy.

Some players, in fact, even skip breakfast just to stay fully focused.

Of course, if someone really wanted to stuff themselves with a giant bowl of braised pork rice mid-match, no one would stop them—it would just look a bit... inappropriate.

As for the City High School Go League, where players took a lunch break mid-tournament, that was a different story altogether.

That was merely a local school event, hosted by the Education Bureau, not even organized by the Go Association.

The moment Yu Shao stepped out of Jinxia Grand Hotel, his phone signal returned.

A notification buzzed.

[New Message from Wu Zhixuan]

? Wu Zhixuan: How'd it go? How'd it go? Did you win today?

Wu Zhixuan’s understanding of Yu Shao’s skill level was still limited to the time he played Wu Shuheng, where Yu Shao had given a two-stone handicap and still won with ease.

Even though he had won effortlessly, she still couldn't accurately gauge his strength—in her mind, passing the Promotion Tournament wouldn't be that easy for him.

Yu Shao quickly typed a reply.

Yu Shao: Won.

Wu Zhixuan was clearly on her phone, as she responded instantly.

? Wu Zhixuan: Nice!! Another win! The men's division is waaay harder than the women's!

Meanwhile, in another match room...

A young man in his early twenties, wearing glasses, stared grimly at the Go board.

"I already lost a game yesterday. I have to win this one. If I don’t, even if I win every game after this, I might not make it into the top ten."

"But this Qiao Anli guy..."

Pushing up his glasses, he glanced at Qiao Anli, who sat across from him, and gritted his teeth.

The game was only in the mid-game, and both sides were playing extremely cautiously.

To be honest, his position was already terrible. While he could still fight, the rest of the game would be a nightmare.

It wasn’t that he considered himself weak.

If he were just an average Amateur 5-dan, he wouldn’t have even bothered signing up for the Promotion Tournament.

Amateur 5-dan was only the entry requirement—nowhere near enough to actually become a pro.

The real competitors in this tournament were top-tier Amateur 5-dans, strong Amateur 6-dans, or even Amateur 7- and 8-dans.

Yesterday, he lost by just 1.5 points in the endgame. It was a winnable match, but he messed up the final moves.

Today, he had to win, no matter what.

After all, his opponent today was also a first-round loser—how strong could he really be?

And yet…

The game was not going as expected.

"Did yesterday’s loss mess with my mindset?"

The thought crept into his mind.

"Yeah, that has to be it."

"I should've won that game. If I hadn’t messed up the endgame, I wouldn't even be in this situation. That loss shook me too much."

Taking a deep breath, he reached for a stone.

"Calm down. Don't let yesterday affect me."

"Even though I'm behind, I excel at middle-game fights. That’s where I’ll turn the tables."

"If I can drag the game into a complex battle, find his weaknesses, and launch a relentless, storm-like attack… I can still win!"

Snap!

White moves!

"No matter what, I have to win!"

Column 13, Row 15—Cut!

Qiao Anli stared at the board for a moment, then swiftly picked up a black stone and placed it down.

Snap, snap, snap…

As the crisp sound of stones echoed through the room, time slipped away.

Half an hour later.

Qiao Anli let out a long breath, nodded slightly toward the bespectacled young man sitting across from him, then stood up and walked toward the judges’ table.

Meanwhile, the bespectacled young man remained frozen, staring at the board in a daze.

His mouth felt dry, his forehead was covered in sweat.

"This... this is nothing like I expected."

In the mid-game, he had been completely overwhelmed.

By the time Qiao Anli had finished reporting his victory and exited the match room, the bespectacled young man finally snapped out of his trance.

Without hesitation, he rushed after him.

"Hey! Wait a second!"

Hearing the call, Qiao Anli paused, turning around in confusion.

The bespectacled young man caught up, still slightly out of breath.

"You're... one of the dojo’s trainees on the promotion path, right?"

He panted as he spoke.

"Yeah."

Qiao Anli nodded, confirming it without hesitation.

"Figures."

The bespectacled young man wasn’t surprised by the answer. He hesitated for a moment, then asked:

"Then... why were you matched against me?"

Qiao Anli blinked, slightly confused.

"Why was I matched against him?"

It was a Swiss-system tournament—opponents were paired based on win-loss records. How was he supposed to know why?

"I mean..."

Noticing Qiao Anli’s puzzled expression, the bespectacled young man clarified:

"In the Swiss system, players are paired based on their win-loss records, right?"

"I lost my first match, and now I was paired against you in the second round. That means... you lost your first match too. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have faced each other."

The bespectacled young man stared at Qiao Anli, disbelief in his voice.

"But with your skill level... why did you lose in the first round?"

At that moment, Qiao Anli fell silent.

"Who was your opponent? Was it another dojo trainee?"

The bespectacled young man pressed further. "What was his name?"

"No."

Qiao Anli shook his head. "As far as I know, our entire E-group got lucky this year—aside from me, there’s only one other dojo trainee, my friend He Zhi’an. We’re from the same dojo, but he wasn’t my first-round opponent."

"Not him?"

The bespectacled young man’s disbelief grew stronger.

"Then... who was your first-round opponent?"

"And more importantly... how did you lose?"

Qiao Anli hesitated for a moment before finally answering.

"His name is Yu Shao."

After saying that, he paused briefly, then took a deep breath and looked the young man in the eyes.

"As for why I lost..."

"If you ever play against him, you’ll understand."

The bespectacled young man froze on the spot.

By the time he snapped out of his daze and wanted to ask more questions, Qiao Anli was already walking away.